


A Hundred Million Years

by voxanonymi (spasmodicIntrigue)



Series: Ignoct Week 2018 [7]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Astronomy, Childhood, Fluff, Ignoct Week, Light Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-11
Updated: 2018-02-11
Packaged: 2019-03-16 20:24:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,244
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13643796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spasmodicIntrigue/pseuds/voxanonymi
Summary: Green spirals like magical fern fronds; shimmering pink and violet like paint spilled into water; a yellow glow along the horizon, like an army of tonberries waving their little lamps just out of sight over the hills.“Noct,” said Ignis. “Do you remember your seventh birthday?”Two boys, one book, one promise, and thirteen years in the interim.





	A Hundred Million Years

**Author's Note:**

> Ignoct Week Day 6—  
> > _Simple: Childhood Promises._

As an early present for his seventh birthday, Prince Noctis contracted a nasty case of the flu. Suffice it to say, he was not happy about having to spend his birthday—for which a small but suitably lavish celebration had been planned—stuck in bed, doctor’s orders. It had been a bad year for the prince’s health, this being the third time he’d taken so ill as to be bedridden, so all precautions were being taken. Only certain people were even allowed to see Noctis—and Ignis was pleased (and maybe a little smug) to be one of them.

“You wouldn’t get sick so often if you would eat your vegetables once in a while,” he took it upon himself to say. He sat cross-legged at the end of Noctis’ bed, the afternoon prior to the long-awaited anniversary of birth (which was really a more accurate term than ‘birthday’). For his own birthday some months earlier, Ignis had requested a particular A-to-Z of physical health book, and, upon receiving it, immediately began committing its pages to memory. All the better to aid his young, royal friend. It was important for Ignis to prove himself capable to ensure he wouldn’t be replaced with someone older and more educated. He had to learn quickly.

“Vegetables are the best and easiest way for your body to receive essential vitamins to strengthen your immune system, so you don’t catch cold so easily.” He liked that phrase, ‘catch cold’. He’d had reasonable cause to say it plenty, this year.

Noctis simply harrumphed and wiped his nose on the back of his hand. (Ignis pushed the tissue box closer to him). “I’d rather be sick all the time.”

Ignis frowned. “You’ll grow out of that way of thinking, one day.”

“Nope. Never. Vegetables are _gross_.”

(It would be a while yet before Ignis stopped underestimating Noctis’ stubbornness.)

“I’m so _bored_ , Iggy,” Noctis whined. “Tomorrow’s supposed to be my birthday. I’m not supposed to be bored on my birthday!”

“The party is merely postponed,” Ignis reminded him, “not cancelled.”

“Post-poned?”

“Moved to a different day.”

“Oh. Well, it’s not the same.” He coughed weakly, then yawned. “At least I still get presents. Did you get me a present, Iggy?”

Ignis was almost offended that Noctis might think otherwise. “Of course I did!”

Noctis’ pale face lit up. “Gimme a hint!”

Ignis shook his head.

“No fun.” Noctis pouted. “I wonder what Dad’s got me.”

“You’ll just have to wait and see, Noct.”

 

As if to add insult to injury, it started to rain on the morning of August 30th, and didn’t let up until after noon. Despite the precipitation, the late-summer temperatures hadn’t yet dropped far towards the more bearable climes of early spring. Vapour clung to the air in a humid haze over the city. The Citadel, at least, was blessedly air-conditioned.

Thinking it likely that the weather would put Noctis in a foul mood, Ignis hurried to visit him after breakfast. He grabbed the carefully-wrapped present from his room on the way to the prince’s quarters.

The door was slightly open. Ignis slowed as he approached, hearing the smooth rumble of King Regis’ voice. He pushed open the door, just a little further, so he could see inside.

Noctis, with a little more colour in his cheeks today, was propped up on his pillows. If the contented smile on his face was anything to go by, he wasn’t in a bad mood at all. King Regis, sat in the chair by Noctis’ bedside, immediately noticed the door opening. He turned, and smiled warmly when he saw Ignis.

“Ah! I was wondering how much longer you would be.” He turned to Noctis. “It seems another of your birthday gifts has arrived.”

Noctis looked over, eyes sparkling expectantly. Ignis held up the present. “Indeed,” he confirmed.

King Regis chuckled as he stood, ruffling Noctis’ hair. “I’ll be back after lunch. Happy birthday, son.”

“Thanks, Dad.” By the sound of Noctis’ voice, he was still congested, but the worst of his throat troubles seemed to have passed.

King Regis came towards the door. “Don’t let him have _too_ much fun, Ignis, or he’ll be stuck in that bed until year’s end,” he joked good-naturedly, patting Ignis’ head.

Never knowing how to react to the actual, literal _king_ treating him like—like a _son_ , almost, as absurd as that idea was, Ignis nodded mutely. Regis smiled once more, closing the door as he left the room.

“You’re so awkward sometimes,” said Noctis.

“He _is_ the king,” Ignis said with a sniff, crossing the room to Noctis’ bed.

“You’re not awkward around me, and I’m the _prince_.”

“Possibly because you don’t act much like one.” Ignis ignored the chair and sat on the side of Noctis’ bed. He held out the present. “Happy birthday, Noct.”

Noctis grinned and took the gift, giving the wrapping scant regard as he tore it away and tossed it to the floor. “Oh, cool!” he gasped, eyes and smile blooming wide with delight.

Ignis would have liked to have said that he’d thought long and hard about what to get Noctis for his seventh birthday, but in reality it had been a pretty obvious choice. Last month, Noctis’ governess had taken them both (with a couple of Crownsguard escorts) to the planetarium downtown. To say that Noctis had been enamoured by it would be understating his enthusiasm. The stars, the planets, the various astronomical phenomena projected onto the domed ceiling—it was all he’d talked about for weeks after. Not that Ignis hadn’t enjoyed it himself. Quite the contrary: it was incredible, if a little scary, how big and beautiful the universe was, and how tiny Eos was in comparison. How tiny _they_ were, smaller than specs of dust in the great expanse of infinity.

So, Ignis had gotten Noctis a collector’s edition astronomy book, with holographic inserts, removable posters, and fold-out informational spreads. He was tempted to get one for himself after having a look through it, but… that wasn’t really in the spirit of birthday presents.

“This is awesome! Thanks, Iggy!” Noctis ran his fingers reverently over the iridescent cover.

“My pleasure,” Ignis replied, feeling a previously-unnoticed tension leak out of his shoulders. It was a book, after all, and maybe not what Noctis wanted. Or maybe he’d gotten bored of space already. But he seemed truly thrilled, which made _Ignis_ thrilled. “What did his Majesty give you?”

“Oh, these,” Noctis said off-handedly, gesturing to a large box of imported Altissian chocolates on the bedside table. He looked up from the book and grinned. “But that’s not the main present. I’m gonna start learning elemancy once I’m better!”

“That’s wonderful, Noct,” said Ignis. He didn’t let on how nervous he was at the idea of Noctis learning to command the powers of nature. He knew, from his readings, that it could be incredibly dangerous if it went wrong.

Noctis nodded vigorously and shuffled over on the bed, patting the space beside him. “Read with me?”

Since it was the prince’s birthday, Ignis really had no choice but to oblige. He scooted up until he was nestled next to Noctis on the bed, astronomy book across their laps, warmer-than-usual prince pressed up against his side with his cheek on Ignis’ shoulder.

“What would you like to read about first?” Ignis asked, flipping through the book’s colourful pages.

He felt Noctis shrug. “Something I’ve never learned before.”

Ignis kept flipping, soon coming across a two-page spread image of the night sky, lit up with ethereal tendrils of green and pink. They both gasped.

“Wow!” breathed Noctis. “What _is_ that?”

Ignis looked at the caption at the bottom of the page. “ ‘The Southern Aurora, as seen from the south observatory in Niflheim’,” he read.

“Wow,” Noctis repeated.

Ignis turned the page, revealing more pictures of auroras in all different patterns and colours. Green spirals like magical fern fronds; shimmering pink and violet like paint spilled into water; a yellow glow along the horizon, like an army of tonberries waving their little lamps just out of sight over the hills.

“ ‘The beautiful lights of the aurora’,” Ignis read, “ ‘are caused by collisions between electrically charged particles from the sun, and gas particles in Eos’ atmosphere. Auroral lights dance in many colours, though the most common are green and pink. The colour depends on what type of gas particle the sun’s charged particles are colliding with.

“ ‘Solar activity such as solar wind and solar storms blows electrons (negatively charged particles) and protons (positively charged particles) towards Eos’ atmosphere. Most of the particles are reflected by the planet’s magnetic field, but at the north and south poles, the field is weaker. This allows some of these charged particles to enter the atmosphere, where they collide with gas particles, resulting in the spectacular Northern and Southern Auroras in the skies above the north and south poles’.”

Ignis glanced down at Noctis, who was raptly transfixed by the photos of the aurora. The book was quite advanced, and Ignis wondered briefly if this all made sense to him. He himself _mostly_ understood it, of course.

Noctis’ eyes flickered up to his own. “Why did you stop?” he asked.

“No reason,” Ignis said, clearing his throat before he resumed reading. “ ‘For reasons unknown, Eos’ Southern Aurora covers twice the geographical area of the Northern Aurora. It is best visible from the southernmost reaches of mainland Niflheim, but can often be seen as far north as Gralea. The Northern Aurora has only occasionally been observed, as it is not usually visible from mainland Lucis. Historical accounts associate the Northern Aurora with major events in Lucian history—such as the day mankind was gifted the Crystal. Whether or not this is fact or poetic embellishment, however, is unverifiable’.”

Noctis was silent for a while after Ignis finished reading. He reached out to trail his fingers along the celestial pink line of a particularly bright aurora.

“Ignis,” he began quietly. “One day, when I’m king and we’re not at war with the Niffs anymore… can we go see the aurora?”

“Of course, Noct.” He said it without thinking, as he often did. It wasn’t that he was careless about making promises—he intended to fulfil each and every promise he made to Noctis. One day, in one way or another.

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

 

Noctis turned away from the scraped, shattered and battered Regalia; turned to face his friends. Two out of three of them, at least. Hey—two out of three ain’t bad, right?

For the most part, the look on Gladio’s face was stoic, but the twitch between his eyebrows gave him away. Ignis, meanwhile, made no attempt to hide the sorrow on his face. It looked as if he were staring at some invisible point by Noctis’ left ear, rather than looking _at_ Noctis. He’d made leaps and bounds, but it hadn’t yet been long enough for him to be completely adjusted to his blindness. Maybe he never would be. The idea felt like an icy clamp around Noctis’ heart.

“I’m sorry, Noct,” Ignis said.

“It’s fine.” Noctis walked past them. “Let’s go.”

He glanced up at the intimidating, angular structure looming above them. Zegnautus Keep. Prompto and the Crystal were somewhere inside. They needed to grab them and get the hell back to Lucis before that bastard Chancellor could think up any horrible new ways to mess with them.

“Noct.” Ignis again. Noctis turned to let him catch up. “Do you remember your seventh birthday?” His cane hit Noctis’ ankles, not painfully, and he stopped. His non-gaze was more accurate this time.

Noctis could see Gladio raising an eyebrow behind Ignis’ shoulder. It _was_ a strange thing to bring up, now of all times. “Uh, sorta,” Noctis said. “You got me that astronomy book. Right?”

Ignis smiled. “That’s right. And I promised you we’d go see the aurora together one day.”

Oh. Now Noctis remembered. He’d been _obsessed_ with the idea of auroras for ages after that birthday. He’d looked up more pictures, tried to draw them, and gotten Ignis to read the passage from the book over and over and explain every word until Noctis understood it perfectly.

“I remember,” Noctis said quietly.

“Can you… see the aurora from here?” Ignis asked. “It’s sometimes visible from Gralea, if I recall.”

Noctis looked towards the southern sky. It was largely obscured by massive airborne demons and the imposing keep. What was left was stark black.

He opened his mouth to answer. Then closed it. He swallowed, and glanced at Gladio, who was giving him a peculiar look in return.

“Yeah,” Noctis said. “There’s—there’s just a little bit visible over the edge of the crater wall. It’s… beautiful. Just like the pictures.”

Gladio looked away, and wordlessly went on ahead.

“I’m glad,” Ignis said. He held his hand out to Noctis, who took it and gave it a gentle squeeze. “I can’t see it for myself, unfortunately, but… at least I could fulfil this one promise.”

“You’ve never broken a promise to me, Iggy,” Noctis said, throat constricting around the words.

“Ah, never say never, Noct,” Ignis said, stepping closer. “I may yet fail you completely.”

“Never,” Noctis said stubbornly. “Not in a hundred million years.”

Ignis smirked. “So it’s fair game after that?”

Noctis hummed, giving Ignis’ hand a last squeeze before letting go. “We’ll see. I might be persuaded to renew your contract.”

**Author's Note:**

> I didn't _have_ to make this angsty, but it's kinda like chekhov's gun. There had to be some sort of payoff for that promise. The payoff was sadness.
> 
> So, on another note, I have ideas in the vault for when Ignoct Week is over, but I'm thinking of taking some requests. Let me know if you're interested, I guess? Either here or on my [tumblr](https://voxanonymi.tumblr.com/), or... idk, I can't tell you what to do. u do u.


End file.
